


Home

by Ink0270 (WestSpiderKing0270)



Series: Darkened Mind [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Death, Depression, Lyricstuck, Smoking, Song fic, Suicide, trans species
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 07:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19290925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestSpiderKing0270/pseuds/Ink0270
Summary: Home by Cavetown





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> **This song does not belong to me. All rights to Cavetown**
> 
> https://youtu.be/X9BNxMOPly4

Cronus stood on the edge of the docks. His violet eyes following the horizon. Smoke curled from his lips, a white rolled cigarette perched between sharp fangs. He blew out another cloud, letting the ash rise.

_Often I am upset, That I cannot fall in love._

Scowling he flicked away the ashes of his cigarette. Another drag of smoke. The grey tendrils burning his lungs. Another cloud. He tossed the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under boot. 

_But I guess, This avoids the stress of falling out of it._

Turning on his heel the seadweller stepped back towards land. He didn’t belong in the ocean anyway. The gravel crunched under his feet as he walked. Low bloods scattering like leaves at the sight of him. 

_Are you tired of me yet? I'm a little sick right now._

He slipped his keys into the lock on his door, entering his dark and cold hive. Slamming the door behind he slumped down on his couch. He didn’t belong here. Neither here or the sea. And yet here he was. 

_But I swear, When i'm ready I will fly us out of here._

Tilting his head back he closed his eyes. He wanted to leave. To be free from the choke hold of his life here on Beforus. To be free. Cronus could feel his mind wander. Rolling green grass hills, towering blocky sky scrapers, people. Not trolls, but human people. Sunlight that felt warm and didn’t burn. 

_I'll cut my hair, To make you stare._

He wouldn’t have his horns, or fins, or gills, or ugly ash grey skin. Instead his skin would be a light pinkish peach, with freckles. Messy brown hair and blue eyes. Human ocean blue. 

_I'll hide my chest, And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here._

If only he could. Cronus opened his eyes. The colorful smiling fantasy fading to grey troll tones. He felt his heart twist in his ribs. His stomach twisting. He was going to be sick. 

—-|

_Turn off your porcelain face, I can't really think right now in this place._

Cronus was tired. The dull grey of Beforus made him want to slam his head into a _grey_ brick wall. He couldn’t focus. He had to leave. 

_There's too many colors, Enough to drive all of us insane._

How did no one else go absolutely _mad_? There was no color to this world. No variety to his environment. Cronus grit his teeth, scaring off a few rust bloods. He had to leave. 

-—| 

_Are you dead? Sometimes I think I'm dead._

He lay in his bed, eyes to the cracked ceiling above him. Cronus felt numb. His limbs heavy at his sides. The normally bright violet eyes had dulled, his earfins permanently down. He felt dead. 

_Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head, But i don't wanna fall asleep just yet._

Memories of nights long past. Jade dress. A silver whistle. A broken skateboard. Cronus turned on his side, pulling his blankets closer and shivering. He would prefer the daymares to his coon any night. 

_My eyes went dark._

Cronus stared blankly at the wall. He felt nothing. No pain. No sadness. No joy. No hope. He felt nothing. 

_I don't know where, My pupils are._

He stared, eyes unseeing and heart unfeeling. Why bother. His skin had dried, hair sticking out in greasy friz, his eyes dull with heavy bags under them, and thin. Almost frail. Cronus didn’t see he needed help. 

_But I'll figure out a way to get us out of here_

Cronus had to get out. He needed to leave. 

—-|

_Get a load of this monster._

Cronus could hear the whispers. He had grown too tired to care. The lowbloods weren’t afraid of him. What could he do? 

_He doesn't know how to communicate, His mind is in a different place._

Cronus stopped talking to his friends. Would take long walks through the town to feel at least somewhat normal. As he walked one night, his head started to get foggy. The concrete felt cool under him. There was a scream. He doesn’t care. 

_Will everybody please give him a little bit of space._

Those words would be familiar if Cronus paid attention. A lowblooded mutant rushing to his aid. “Cronus.” Was what he heard, eyes closing. He had drifted. 

_Get a load of this trainwreck, His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet._

Cronus got worse over the nights. He was a mere shadow of the troll he once was. Only a skeleton with no motivation. He couldn’t take it. 

_But little do we know the stars welcome him with open arms, Oh._

Cronus knew what he had to do.  
He had to leave. 

—-|

 

_Time is, Slowly, Tracing his face._

Cronus stared out at the horizon. The pink moon was rising in the distance casting it’s light on everything. Cronus lit a cigarette. He stood at the edge of a cliff face. The wind playing with his hair and smoke from the cigarette. It was his time. He flicked out his cigarette and stepped to the edge. 

“Cronus!” It was too late. 

_But strangely he feels at home in this place._

Tipping forward Cronus let himself fall. He could feel the wind brush past him. This was it. He was finally free. 

“I’m sorry Kankri.”


End file.
